Detective Chief Inspector John Petite was an imposing figure. He stood a full head over 6 foot tall and would be categorized as intimidating were it not for the constant smile plastered on his face. His good nature belied his dedication to the law. He was a bulldog, tenacious and single-minded in his pursuit of justice. Petite had grown-up poor and it was only through luck and the grace of God that his path lead him to Scotland Yard rather than the darker side of society. Many of the friends he had grown up with were criminals now and looked upon the inspector as a traitor to his roots. Despite their disappointment however, they begrudgingly respected this man who was so ably skilled at his job.

     This day found the Chief Inspector especially self-satisfied. After months of dogged pursuit, he had captured the infamous serial robber, Bob Locksley, who had been terrorizing the upper class neighborhoods with brazen thefts and assaults aimed at the rich and privileged.

     Petite stood outside the interview room thumbing through the arrest file. He took a deep breath and entered the room. Seated at the long wooden table was a cheerful unimposing figure tapping his fingers lightly on the table top. Locksley looked up at the inspector and grandly motioned to the chair opposite him
     "Have a seat, John. It's been quite a while."

     Petite couldn't keep from grinning. He sat down.
     "Hi Bob. I can't say it's a surprise meeting like this. Somewhat inevitable actually."
     Locksley stop smiling, "you must be really proud of yourself. Forget the murderers and drug dealers, they prey mostly on the poor, but your rich friends... Oh no... got to protect them."
     "Save the self righteous bullshit Bob. You're a thief, it's not like you give your ill-gotten gains away," he paused, then continued, "what happened to you? You came from a good family. You had everything."

     Locksley looked down and shook his head. "The war happened. Who do you think they sent to that godforsaken hellhole, your rich buddies? Not likely. The upper crust stay the upper crust, even... no... especially in war. They point us and send us into the wood chipper and what do we get? A pat on the back and nightmares for the rest of our lives, that's what."

     "Oh cry me a river, Locksley . You enlisted, you weren't conscripted."
     "What were my options, John? My family lost everything. As soon as I became poor, I became invisible, no one saw me, no one cared. The army seemed a way out. I was young, stupid, and desperate. When I got back, all I did was take what was owed me from the people who could afford it."

     "And now you'll pay the price," the inspector interjected.
     "I've already paid the price, this is just the interest. And you? Doesn't it bother you serving the masters who are so determined to keep you in your place?"

     "I made my choice long ago, Bob. The law is all that protects us from the jungle. Do I like the people you stole from, no, not particularly, but it's not about them, it's about avoiding chaos. You Bob, are chaos. You need to be behind bars, for society's sake."

     Locksley smiled and threw up his arms.
     "You got me, I'm chaos incarnate. As long as I breathe I will be. It's my raison d'être. I don't expect leniency."
     "You're not likely to get it either. I don't fault you. You are who you are."
     "And you, John? Are you who you are?"

     Petite smiled, "Who's to say. Under different circumstances, in a different life, maybe I'm a crook too, but this is here, this is now."

     Locksley put his head on the table in his arms. He yawned, "I'm tired now. Don't worry, I'll make a full confession."

     The chief inspector stood up and began to walk to the door. Before exiting he turned and addressed Locksley .
    "Sorry it had to end like this. You're not a bad chap."
     "Neither are you, Chief Inspector. It's a shame though, we might've been friends."

     Petite turn to exit. "In another life, Bob, in another life." He closed the door behind him.